


pick up the pieces, build a Lego house

by allwyf



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Emotionally Constipated Tsukki, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Yamaguchi is a precious babu, but what's new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 15:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6429115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwyf/pseuds/allwyf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the first time anyone’s actively tried to touch him. Hinata is a big fuck-you to soulmate etiquette, or whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pick up the pieces, build a Lego house

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catbear (bluedreaming)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedreaming/gifts).



> Originally Kei and Tadashi Discover the Secrets of the Universe, because Kei is totes Ari and Yams is totes Dante. I will fight anyone on this. Also title is from Ed Sheeran's Lego House, which is /the/ Ari and Dante song. Technically a Kei and Tadashi song now, I guess?

Kei never wasted time thinking about soulmates.

For one thing, he already found his practically from the moment he was born. Baby-Kei grasped his older brother’s finger and a deep golden mark appeared in Kei’s tiny palm. Akiteru, on the other hand, received distinctly finger-shaped marks on his forefinger, like tiny grips.

It’s not unusual for family to be soulmates, their mother said. And they might yet find someone else whose soul complements theirs. Kei doesn’t care. His parents aren’t soulmates and they’re all perfectly fine. The marks are just annoyingly colorful tattoos, anyway. The darker the color, the deeper the bond, or something. 

But then he starts high school and joins the volleyball team and it feels like upending his life from the get go. He still cares as minimally as possible, but everyone in the team is intense, and their fervor feels like an itch under his skin he can’t will away.

Possibly, it all starts when Hinata tries to shake his hand after their three-on-three match. The kid wouldn’t let him go, yapping about match etiquette and team spirit, and if Kei didn’t have the advantage of height their skin would have touched.

It’s the first time anyone’s actively tried to touch him. Hinata is a big fuck-you to soulmate etiquette, or whatever.

He’s about ninety-nine percent sure Hinata is _not_ his soulmate, and besides, Hinata already matched with the King. Nonetheless, he has practiced being untouchable all these years, so he extracts himself forcefully, backs away, almost trips over Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi apologizes, natural as Kei’s indifference, and the thought is another proverbial itch in his being.

Except. This time, Yamaguchi offers a hand along with the apology. Kei doesn’t need it because he already caught himself, but he imagines taking it, just for a second. They catch each other’s gaze and Yamaguchi flushes and flinches before Kei could even wipe his own surprise at the turn of events.

“Sorry,” Yamaguchi says again, and then turns away hurriedly, fleeing to congratulate Hinata and Kageyama, who’ve already forgotten about him.

Kei can only guess Yamaguchi was inspired by the two weirdos. In the years they’ve known each other, Yamaguchi hasn’t shown any interest in soulmates, although it could also be Kei’s doing. Yamaguchi never asked about the ever-present stain on his right palm, and Kei never offered and never entertained the possibility that the two of them could be _it._

Until now.

Then again, Yamaguchi might already have someone. It’s possible, despite the fact that they’ve spent literally every waking moment together since elementary.

He realizes he’s taken Yamaguchi’s presence in his life entirely for granted. He steals a glance at Yamaguchi, freckles stark against his face, dots rearranging with his facial expressions. Hinata is recounting his moves with unintelligible sound effects, spurred by Yamaguchi’s attentiveness, and Kageyama is quietly sipping from his tumbler, intently listening.

From what he’s gathered from the seniors, the two have been squabbling from the moment they saw each other. One particular argument, things escalated and came to shoving, and Kageyama’s hand’s a little too big for Hinata’s chest, his fingers accidentally coming into contact with the skin just underneath where Hinata’s collarbones met, and now Hinata has two round black spots there while Kageyama sports the exact same markings under the pads of his left middle and ring fingers. He supposes it makes sense they’re soulmates; he’s never met anyone with their level of carelessness when it comes to touching other people.

They make it look _easy_. The bickering hasn’t dwindled, not even a little bit, but the way they move around and with each other is comfortable, secure. Soul marks are permanent, but they’re non-binding. Anyone is free to be with or love anyone. Kageyama and Hinata move like they plan to be together for the rest of their lives, disagreeing and yelling and compromising like they have forever to figure out a common ground between them.

And they’ve only known each other for, like, a _week_.

Kei grits his teeth and leaves for the showers.  

-x-

“Oi, Yamaguchi,” he pulls his headphones down and his friend looks up from his math notes.

“Yes, Tsukki?”

“Do you have any soul marks?”

From the way Yamaguchi blanches, only to turn an alarming shade of red two seconds later, Kei supposes he could have been more delicate about the matter.

“No!” Yamaguchi splutters, like Kei is utterly ridiculous to even _think_ of it.

Kei feels ridiculously gratified.

He shrugs and goes back to his own notes, buries his hands under his books to hide their trembling.

-x-

Yamaguchi doesn’t tell him where he goes after school, but Kei guesses correctly enough, when Yamaguchi starts practicing the jump float serve when he thinks nobody is looking. He doesn’t ask about it.

It’s not exactly _loss_ he feels when he turns to look at his side on the walk home and fails to see the bob of Yamaguchi’s errant hair, or when he looks up from his desk to borrow an eraser and he doesn’t see Yamaguchi rewriting his notes so he doesn’t confuse himself, or. When his phone doesn’t beep from texts with excessive emojis. It’s not loss, but it’s the closest word he can think of.

-x-

“Tsukishima-kun.” The girl offers her a letter sealed with a strawberry sticker. She clearly did her research, which means Yamaguchi got hounded again. He never volunteers information about Kei unless he’s about to break, and Kei doesn’t blame him. Some people are tenacious.

She’s looking at him almost defiantly, as if daring him to question her confidence.

He wouldn’t, but this is a waste of their time. He’s not interested.

He’s about to take the letter anyway, because people seem to think Yamaguchi fed them bad intel whenever he rejects someone, when she gasps, her composure shaking. When he follows her line of sight, it leads directly to the gold soul mark on his palm.

“So you already have someone?”

“Sure,” he says, because it’s true. But instead of his brother, he thinks of freckles and laughter that sounds like bells. And, just a little, of _loss._

She pockets her letter. Nods. Kei almost thanks her for understanding.

“She’s not my type,” is all he says when Yamaguchi sidles up to him seamlessly on the way back to their classroom. Maybe he only imagines it, but they both sigh in relief.

Not that he cares, but after that one, no one tries to confess to him again. He figures he’ll live.

-x-

Yamaguchi flounders with the jump float serve, and his face crumples so fast Kei almost leaves his place to go to him. If only they aren’t in an official match, he thinks he really would.

They lose to Aoba Johsai, which is not surprising but still annoys the hell out of Kei. Hinata and Kageyama are inconsolable, and the seniors look furious and a bit hopeless. Yamaguchi’s just… withdrawn.

When the team cries about it at dinner, Yamaguchi joins in and sobs like it’s the only way to breathe, but afterwards on their way home he’s disconcertingly quiet.

“I’ll work harder,” he says when they came to the fork in the road leading to their separate neighborhoods.

Kei just raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t tell him he’s already worked hard, that maybe the problem is believing in his own hard work.

“You don’t have to,” is what he says.

It feels like the wrong thing to say, and Yamaguchi only confirms it by furrowing his eyebrows like Kei is _dense._ “I want to,” he replies, fists clenching. He opens his mouth and tries to say more and then stops. He closes his eyes and scrunches his face, and Kei would, at this point, do anything to stop him from crying again.

He’s been taking Yamaguchi’s easy smiles for granted. Now they’re so few and far between.

When Yamaguchi opens his eyes again, he’s a bit more composed.

“I want to,” he repeats.

He pats Yamaguchi’s shoulder and almost cringes at the awkwardness of the motion. “I know.”

-x-

They don’t walk home together these days. Yamaguchi doesn’t have to hide training with Shimada anymore and forgoes the pretense of running errands altogether. He only comes over on weekends when Shimada _forces_ him to rest, _just one day, Tadashi, you won’t lose,_ and Kei knows this because Yamaguchi will turn up at his house looking put out and ask him if he wants to do homework together.

This particular Saturday, Yamaguchi calls ahead and asks if they could just hang out. Kei huffs and tells him to bring the video game they both enjoy.

They play for maybe half an hour before Yamaguchi, without skipping a beat, says, “Shimada’s arm touched mine yesterday.”

Kei starts so hard he loses the game right then and he turns to look at Yamaguchi’s arms. He finds it covered by long sleeves and Kei feels like a brick has lodged in his chest, and is on its way down to crush everything else. He adjusts his glasses and coughs, trying not to look at Yamaguchi.

“We were so scared. I don’t think I’ve ever thrown the ball that hard, even intentionally.”

Kei scoots backwards until his back hits the edge of the bed. He feels a bit wobbly.

Naturally, Yamaguchi copies the movement and their shoulders touch and it’s too much and _not enough,_ and Kei realizes the reason he’s so shaken is that he _forgot_ —how could he fucking forget—that they aren’t soulmates. That from the day he started minding soul marks and kindred souls and _Yamaguchi Tadashi,_ sometimes separately, sometimes altogether, his mind assumed that Yamaguchi is, obviously, Kei’s match, glossing over the fact that they haven’t actually proven it.

And now. Well. They could still be it, the reality of having multiple soulmates and all, but Kei remembers that they haven’t actually been together since after the InterHigh qualifiers, that Yamaguchi has spent almost every after-school hour with Shimada and—

Kei comes to the startling conclusion that he does not like sharing.

“We waited an hour, just, uhhh, staring at each other, we didn’t know how fast marks appeared, y’know? And then he finally calls his mother to ask, and then we found out that it’s supposed to appear instantly, and, _Tsukki_.” He hugs his knees, head falling to rest on top of them. His voice comes out muffled the next time he speaks. “Tsukki, I was so relieved Shimada isn’t my soulmate.”

Kei releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He lets his head fall on Yamaguchi’s shoulder, sagging like all the fight has gone out of him. 

“Me too.”

There’s a hitch in Yamaguchi’s next breath, and Kei wonders if he should finally ask, maybe they should confirm now to get it out of their systems, because Yamaguchi sounded relieved, yes, but also hopeful, and Kei wants—

Kei wants to hold Yamaguchi Tadashi’s hand.

“Do you think we’re—” And then Yamaguchi hesitates.

And then. Nothing.

They don’t talk about it anymore and they stay in that position until Kei can no longer ignore the crick in his neck.

-x-

“What else do we need besides pride?” Yamaguchi demands. Even in his frustration, Yamaguchi is careful not to let any part of his skin touch Kei’s, elbows tucked in as he clutches at Kei’s shirt.

They’ve never fought before. Yamaguchi always let him have his way, quick to apologize in the rare moments of opposing views, always ready to acquiesce to whatever Kei wants, and Kei _let_ him all this time.

A smile forces its way out of him and he hopes it doesn’t appear sarcastic, or mean or. Any of his usual ones.

“When did you become so cool?”

Kei hasn’t tried for anything in his life, ever since he learned at a young age that everyone’s better off not expecting anything from anyone. When he found about his brother lying about being Karasuno’s ace, the betrayal and disappointment he felt dimmed everything else in his life. So he shut himself further, keeps himself from hoping for anything, makes himself unnoticeable and insignificant lest people start expecting from him.

He gets good grades because he has good memory. He got accepted into the volleyball team without a hitch because he’s tall. Yamaguchi never let him go home with any doubt that he’ll be there the next day, no matter how aloof Kei has been that particular day.

So this time, because _this_ matters, because he cares against his better judgment, because, most of all, it’s Yamaguchi—no, Tadashi—

He offers his little finger, the biggest part of himself he can offer without caving in on himself, on his self-imposed loneliness. It’s not much, but it would only take one touch, wouldn’t it? Either they’re it or they aren’t. His little finger could handle it, whatever happens.

Kei looks directly into Tadashi’s eyes and anchors himself there.

Tadashi loops his own little finger with his.

Kei is unsure whether there’s an actual sensation when the deep maroon crescent marks appear where their fingers are twined, or if the blooming warmth is something entirely in his chest.

Tadashi—he _beams._

-x-

Later, Bokuto tells him volleyball is worth all the hard work for the fleeting _moments_ of sheer joy from feeling the power a good spike. Kei thinks he need to process it a bit more, volleyball-wise, but his mind drifts to Tadashi’s blinding grin after their marks appeared and that grin softening into the warmest smile and the way his heart constricted almost painfully at how happy it made (makes) him, and, well. He thinks he kind of gets it.

-x-

The first person to know about his new mark, and he surprises even himself with his willingness to divulge this, is Akiteru. His brother’s still toeing off his shoes in the entryway when Kei, without preamble, says, “I found my soulmate.”

Akiteru fumbles with his shoe and misses the shoe rack entirely. “What?”

“Besides you, I mean—”

“Yes, I figured—”

Kei shoves his little finger under his brother’s nose by way of explanation. It’s even darker under the fluorescent light.

“Congratulations?” Akiteru hesitates. “Is it someone you like?”

“Yes.”

And then Akiteru _laughs._ He laughs so hard he wheezes, so loudly it calls the attention of their mother.

“Dear, are you quite alright?”

Akiteru just nods, wiping tears from his eyes, and Kei is pissed, _he trusted him_ , until Akiteru claps his shoulder as their mother goes back to making dinner.

“Sorry, I just—I’m happy for you. And I was betting on it, but I guess it’s still a pleasant surprise. How did Tadashi take it?”

“He’s fine—”

“I’m sure it makes sense to both of you. I mean, you’ve only been together since forever. And I know for a fact you’re not the best conversationalist, Kei, so it must be fate.”

Kei wants to maybe punch his brother, but then it hits him. “How did you even know it’s him?”

“You only like one person.”

Kei doesn’t know what that says about all of this, but he accepts it well enough.

-x-

His feelings catch up to him the way almost everything in his life does: by exploding, more or less, in his face. It shouldn't surprise Kei, really. One of his many talents, after all, is that he’s really good at ignoring things until he _absolutely_ has to deal with them. Including his own feelings. 

Tadashi is staring up at him squarely, his hands firmly around Kei’s arms.

“You never know unless you try, right?” For all his new found courage, Tadashi’s voice is quiet. His lips quiver.

“We’ve known each other for years, Yamaguchi. Kissing wouldn’t exactly prove anything.”

If Tadashi is so determined to prove they aren’t anything romantic, then fine.

Kei leans down and presses his lips against Tadashi’s. Closes his eyes for good measure.

Their lips are dry and for a moment it’s all Kei can think about, regret and embarrassment growing inside him and making him want to throw things. Break things. But then Tadashi inhales, sharply, like remembering something, and presses his lips harder, tilts his head slightly, catches Kei’s upper lip with both of his.

Kei wants to sink to his knees and rethink his life choices, because. Because his chest feels like an inflating balloon and he’s almost sure he’s going to burst, terribly exceed his capacity to _be,_ if he doesn’t push his friend away _right_ _this moment._

So he pushes himself away, his skin tingling where it brushes Tadashi’s arms, and his ears ringing with the realization that he hasn’t looked at Tadashi _platonically_ in a long time.

Tadashi looks _scared_ , and, fuck, if that’s the only feeling Kei inspires in him then he doesn’t deserve him, doesn’t deserve to be with this boy who is made of apologies and stars and gentle hands.

“Didn’t feel anything,” he lies through gritted teeth, because he’s a terrible person and Tadashi is the best there is.

“Oh,” came the quiet reply. “Sor–”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Right.”

Kei wants to scream.

-x-

The captain gets injured in the match against Wakutani South and has to leave to get checked in the infirmary. His absence scrambles their newly-minted system, until Ennoshita picks up the slack. Somehow, they win.

Tadashi’s hesitant pinch serve almost gets him an earful from the coach, but again, Ennoshita saves the day.

When they’re assembling for their next match—against Aoba Johsai again, no less—Sawamura and Sugawara arrive in the lobby with matching dark grey marks on their foreheads and both sporting blushes red enough to give Nekoma’s uniform a run for their money.

Kei resolutely tries not to touch the mark on his finger. He’s been avoiding even looking at his friend because he doesn’t have words of comfort or encouragement, and he’s not really sure what Tadashi wants. He just looks angry and Kei is out of his depth.

If he hits the ball harder than necessary when they’re warming up, nobody is any the wiser.

-x-

The last time he allowed himself to feel this much pride was when he was still under the illusion that his brother was Karasuno’s ace. After that, pride became a waste of time he didn’t want anything to do with.

Tadashi is readying his next serve in the corner, arms posed in front of him, looking scared as hell. The kind of scared that can only be bravery underneath, and Kei feels braver just watching him, just a little bit.

“I’m proud of you,” he says, only it comes out as, “Hit a nice serve.”

-x-

Five sets against Shiratorizawa.

It takes five sets, one minor injury, and one hard-fought victory, to get Kei to settle inside his own skin. His legs feel like jelly and he thinks he’s shaking, and his teammates are screaming loud enough to drown out the rest of the auditorium, and he thinks he’s never been this calm.

The match hardly took two hours but it feels like a million years have passed since this morning.

His focus shifts to Tadashi then, and finds Tadashi already looking at him, tears in his eyes and trying to bite off the trembling of his lips. When he reaches out, Tadashi meets him halfway, and they lace their fingers together, their soul marks aligning.

Kei hasn’t apologized yet, for years of near neglect, for not being there enough for him, for lying about the kiss, but he feels as if he’s already forgiven.

“I’m sorry,” he says anyway, and trusts Tadashi to hear him through the din.

“Okay,” Tadashi says, and squeezes his hand before letting go, pushing him towards the rest of the team, where Kei receives careful and yet excessive displays of affection he doesn’t have the heart to reject.

He doesn’t know what to expect, after.

The team goes out for dinner and is subdued instead of heartily recounting the match, although Tanaka and Hinata make an attempt before Sugawara shushes them both so they can eat their fill.

Tadashi is quiet the entire time, but he’s a warm presence at Kei’s side, their sides pressed from shoulder to elbow. Once or twice, Tadashi smushes his face into Kei’s arm, sniggering at Kageyama drooling with his chopsticks midway between his bowl and his mouth, or to giggle at Asahi being bullied into eating more vegetables by Nishinoya. They don’t break contact at all.

Perhaps belatedly, Kei realizes it’s Tadashi’s way of telling him he’s allowed to touch.

Maybe it wasn’t Tadashi’s fear he saw after their first kiss. Maybe it was his.

“Tadashi,” he says, when they’re alone in the street, on the fork where they will meet again tomorrow.

Tadashi brightens, and Kei thinks it’s only right, because it’s nighttime and Tadashi is, after all, all the stars.

“I would like to kiss you again.”

And then, Tadashi dims a little, asks a quiet “Why?” and Kei almost backs out then, but he has to _try_.

“I lied, back then. I—” he’s _so_ going to cringe at how cheesy this is, later, when he’s had more time to think about it, “—we’re meant to be.”

“Platonically, of course.”

Kei’s heart is ready to fall into pieces but then he sees the beginning of a playful smile on Tadashi’s face and then his heart soars instead. He pulls Tadashi closer by looping their little fingers together.

“In every way, more like.”

Kei leans down as Tadashi tips on his toes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did u also spot the I'll Give You the Sun reference? Welp I'm YA trash
> 
> EDIT: Someone asked to explain the soulmate thing in the comments and this is the best I could do: you find out who your soulmate/s is/are through skin-to-skin contact. Touching is not like officially/legally banned, it's just that people avoid touching other people in case they already have soulmates, or for instance, they are friends and would like to keep it that way or are afraid no marks would appear in people they love. I hope that makes sense?


End file.
